


Concoction

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: When Belle is urgently requested to go to Mr. Gold's house, she encounters something she couldn't have dreamed of.





	Concoction

_Come to Gold's house. URGENT!_

Belle keeps glancing at Jefferson's message on her phone as she rushes up the stairs to the porch of the salmon Victorian as quickly as her heels allow her. Her heart is beating in her throat and she's faint with worry as she reaches the front door.

The landlord will probably never know that her feelings for him go far beyond friendship, given how particularly skittish he has been around her lately. In the past few months, she hasn't gotten any closer to being in a romantic and physical relationship with him... and now she might not even have one more minute with him at all, if these messages are any indication.

_He's in his bedroom. Please be quiet._

She's practically shaking in concern for him as she receives a new message from Jefferson.

Kicking off her heels and taking the stairs two steps at a time on her bare feet, she idly wonders why she has to be silent. If only she could see this yet more personal part of his house for the first time in better circumstances.

Indeed, if only she would at least have told him how she truly feels about him before it might have been too late... She could have told him, she  _should_ have told him, if only when their mutual friend Jefferson practically put the words into her mouth over and over again during the last few times that the three of them met in this very house.

But she couldn't bring herself to bare her heart when the landlord got flustered with obvious discomfort and rejection at their friend's teasing. What would be the point anyway? But now that she's about to see his bedroom after all in probably far from good circumstances, she finds herself wishing that she had tried harder to tell him.

There's a flickering light from a partially closed door on the landing, instinctively leading her towards it, as she has no idea where his bedroom actually is. Her only thoughts on Mr. Gold and the question what's happening to him that Jefferson has summoned her here in such a fashion, she's about to push the door wide open.

But she falters when she hears some sort of grunting noise from the other side of the door, realizing that bursting into the room will doubtlessly break the quietness which Jefferson requested.

She lingers on the hallway outside instead, peering into what she can only presume to be the landlord's bedroom in order to determine whether she can go in. To her surprise, there's a hearth in the room, a brightly burning fire inside it. She blinks a few times, her eyes adapting to the sudden light.

The sound of another grunt reaches her ears, prompting her to take in the rest of the room. There's a large bed in it, and there's a figure on said bed. She can only see its silhouette, dark against the fire right behind it, but the slight stature and longish hair can belong to only on person.

Unlike what she feared, it turns out that the love of her life isn't dying or hurting at all. In fact, he is alive and kicking, in a sense more so than she's ever seen him as it dawns on her what she's looking at. He's propped up on his arms on the mattress, his lower half covered by a blanket and his upper half entirely bare.

He groans again, but this time it's clear that it isn't a sound of agony like she expected at first. Indeed, combined with the way he throws his head back, it's clear now that he's in unmistakable pleasure... that the way his entire body is moving sensually beneath the sheet can only mean one thing.

Belle stumbles backwards when she finds Mr. Gold  _making love_  in his bedroom, rather than being in a state of pain or danger like she believed. Her legs become temporarily useless at the discovery that she's witnessing him doing this... that he has probably lost his heart to someone else.

Rather than falling and probably alerting him to her presence that way, she is kept upright by a tall figure appearing behind her from the darkness. She screams, the activity in the bedroom forgotten for a split second, but her mouth is covered by a large hand, muting the sound entirely.

"Don't be alarmed, little mouse," comes a familiar voice from right next to her ear, so softly that only she can hear it.

She relaxes a little when she belatedly recognizes Jefferson, only to tense again when she recalls that  _he_ lured her to find the landlord in such an utterly private moment... a moment of which she can't help but wish to be a very welcome participant.

"I'm letting go of you now, but I'm asking you to stay here and watch our dear, stubborn friend."

His words are mostly lost on her when she continues to stand there, half supported by Jefferson as she looks back into the bedroom, if only to answer her most burning question:  _who is he with?!_

To her frustration, she can't tell who his partner is. He is bent over the unknown woman beneath him – she  _presumes_ that he is with a woman, if only because of their current position – both shielding her from her view and preventing any light from falling onto her face, or any other part of her body for that matter.

"Why are you showing me this?!" she whispers hoarsely to Jefferson, tears welling in her eyes. "Who  _is_  she?!"

"You're as blind as he is, aren't you?" he asks softly, looking at her with something like pity.

"What do you mean?!"

She previously suspected that he was very much aware of her feelings for Mr. Gold, but now she isn't so certain of that any longer.

"You are the only person he'll ever be with, and if he can't have you – and he's convinced of that – he won't be with anyone at all."

"But..." she murmurs, for once not in the mood for semantics as she glances back at the scene right in front of her, where Gold is still – very slowly – thrusting into someone beneath the covers.

"He isn't with a  _person,"_ Jefferson replies, his slightly raised voice thankfully mostly covered by the crackling fire and the sounds of the other man's pleasure.

She's got no idea what he's talking about, becoming more confused yet when he hands her some piece of paper. Belle stares at it in confusion, not understanding at all why he has given her a manual of something called a 'Fleshlight'.

But as her eyes falls on the picture on the paper, she recalls a previously long forgotten object which Ruby once mentioned. Looking at the image and text more carefully, heat spreads throughout her when it dawns on her why Jefferson just said that he's not making love to a  _person –_ that there's literally no one for her to be jealous of.

"Are you saying that..." she whispers hopefully, not quite knowing how to put the words 'sex toy' and 'Mr. Gold' in one sentence, especially while she's witnessing the latter still very much enjoying the former.

Her question is answered almost immediately, when the landlord pushes himself up on his knees, causing the sheet to slide down his body. This time, Belle covers her mouth with her own hand to contain her gasp as the landlord unknowingly reveals himself to her in all his glory.

Once more, she can only see his outline as he settles himself on his knees on the bed, the fire right behind him. But what an outline it is, especially now that she can see all of him, her attention almost immediately on the part of him which most clearly shows his arousal.

Wetness gathers between her legs when he picks up a bottle of what she presumes to be lubricant, and squirts a generous amount of it onto the palm of his hand. As soon as he has done so, he reaches for his already glistening length.

She's  _throbbing,_ her breathing labored when he tentatively strokes himself, hissing with pleasure as he does so. As if that sight isn't intoxicating enough yet, he sets himself back on all fours, wiping his slippery hand on the towel.

Only then her attention is drawn to the contraption which he has made on the bed. Rather than a woman of flesh and blood, it turns out that his only companion is indeed a sex toy. It's an artificial vagina inside an object resembling a large flashlight, which the manual in her hand describes as 'better than the real thing'.

"It's one of my more brilliant ideas, if I say so myself," Jefferson says, managing to sound rather smug despite the almost inaudible volume of his voice. "Although I must admit that I'm still delightfully surprised that he let me talk him into this. He must have been yet more desperate for you than I suspected."

Vaguely aware that apparently all of this has been set up by Jefferson, that the landlord has been unknowingly coaxed into this situation just like she was herself, Belle returns her attention to what he's doing.

The toy is wedged between a towel on the mattress and a large pillow on top of it, presumably keeping it in place despite his movements. It's the same pillow that he was moving against before, the dark shape which she presumed to be a woman instead. Which, all things considered, isn't all that strange: this rather unorthodox construction makes his efforts mimic actual sex as accurately as she supposes it can without involving an actual partner.

"I bet you all my hats that he's thinking of you right now."

Jefferson's whispered words are lost on her as the landlord takes himself in hand again and exquisitely slowly pushes his almost dripping length back into the clutching toy. Her breath catches in her throat at the way he gasps at the friction, his entire body trembling.

Belle wishes that she could see his face, that she could see all of him more clearly. Still, she has never been remotely as aroused as she is now, watching Mr. Gold find a comfortable position.

He doesn't bother with the sheet anymore, perhaps too caught up in what he's doing. It allows her to see a whole lot more of him than before as he spreads his legs to get comfortable while he settles himself on the large pillow.

Her throat dry and her mouth open, she is quivering herself as he continues to slowly thrust into the object. His movements are a bit smoother than before, but still look rather experimental, as if all of this is new to him.

He is groaning again, the sound low and utterly tempting. No longer torn by the confusion and insecurity about what she's seeing and whom she might be seeing with him, Belle can now properly appreciate the dampness and surprising tan of the entire back of his body.

Not to mention his gentle but only barely controlled movements, the subtle rippling of his muscles, and the beauty of his lean frame in general.

"Look at him, little mouse.  _Watch._ This is what you want to do with him, isn't it? Being with him like this?"

The surprisingly shy and solitary landlord is gorgeous to her in any circumstances, but to see him like  _this_ , for once utterly inhibited and free as he evidently has found a position that's wholly to his liking, is something else entirely.

"Oh, _sweetheart_..."

She thought that this sight couldn't get any better, but when he begins to talk like he is actually with a lover, perhaps even as if he is with  _her..._ if it hadn't been for her vague awareness of Jefferson's continued presence right at her side, she might have sought her own release right here and now.

"You feel so good," the landlord rasps quietly, wrapping his arms around the pillow in a clear attempt to imitate a lover's embrace yet more.

Although Jefferson is still keeping her upright, she also blindly grasps for the door post as he continues to talk like this. Seeing how gentle and loving he is with a pillow and a sex toy, she can't wait to find out what he's like with another person... what he will be like in such an intimate situation with  _her_.

"He wants you, Belle. He  _loves_ you. As much as you want and love him. If only the two of you could see and believe that."

She's too distracted to remind him that there's no way to be certain what is going through Mr. Gold's head right now, whether he'd actually like to be with her... whether he's truly imagining being with her right now.

Breathlessly, she drinks in the sight of each and every one of his slow thrusts, of his trembling thighs and arms as his groans become louder and more wrecked by the second. Merely watching him like this evokes more desire within her than her ex fiancé ever has.

"I can't... I can't hold on, sweetheart," he brings out as his movements become more irregular.

She all but bites her way straight through her lip as she watches him and hears him talk like this. It's so very easy to imagine being with him, that  _she_ is the one he tenderly addresses this way as he makes love to her, taking his sweet time with her even while he is starting to be wholly overwhelmed by his pleasure.

Belle can tell the exact moment he finds his release. He goes entirely still, practically whimpering, before dropping bodily onto the pillow as his limbs give out. His hips jerk forward on their own accord and he pushes himself as deep into the contraption beneath him as he can possibly go.

There's a lurch low in her belly as she watches him in the throes of his passion, her panties soaked with her own arousal. She's convinced that the whole scene can't get any more intoxicating, but then...

" _Belle_..."

Mr. Gold's voice is partially muted by the pillow he has collapsed on, but the fact that he says her name while he comes undone is unmistakable. She gasps out loudly at the confirmation that he thinks of her when doing this, that  _she_ is the one he wants.

The moment of euphoria is roughly interrupted though when the landlord looks in shock in her direction for the first time, clearly disturbed by the sound she accidentally let out. She can't see his expression in the dim light, but his previously utterly relaxed body tenses visibly when he spots her.

"Miss French?" he rasps, to her horror able to recognize her in the dark hallway. " _Jefferson?!"_

Belle freezes as well when she recalls that she isn't alone, as if it isn't bad enough yet that she just watched him doing something so utterly private. She dreads to think of what must be going through the landlord right now. He glances down himself, scrambling to cover his body when he is reminded of the exact state he is in.

"What the hell is going on!?" he cries out, sheer panic in his voice.

"Why don't you explain all this to him?" Jefferson says with amusement which seems completely uncalled for, pushing her into the bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

"You can't do that to her!" Mr. Gold brings out, as if he's only concerned about her well-being whereas _he_ is the one who just suffered such a breach of privacy.

"It's for your own good," Jefferson yells back from behind the closed door, the sound of scraping wood indicating that he has gone as far as to barricade it. "You'll thank me later – both of you!"

The landlord opens his mouth to reply, but he closes it again when he looks back at her, standing in front of his bed. He has covered his lower half with a towel and he quickly removes the object which gave him such pleasure, dropping it on the other side of the bed, where she can't see it.

Now that she's closer to him, it's clear that his face is bright red, probably more due to humiliation than bliss at this point. His scent is heavy in the air and she can't help but inhale deeply, savoring this whole new side of him.

Belle approaches him, smiling tentatively at him now that she knows that he desires her and in all likelihood loves her as well, just like Jefferson said all along. He backs away from her however, reminding her that he has no idea yet that their feelings for one another in all likelihood aren't nearly as one sided as both of them suspected all this time.

Telling him that doesn't seem all that easy however now that he is so on edge. He watches her with wide, almost terrified eyes, covering himself with the towel as much as possible. His hands are shaking – just about his entire body is.

"I... I can't apologize enough for all of this," he says, the usually so eloquent landlord all but stuttering. "I don't dare imagine what you... what you might think of me right now. I'd swear that the door was closed when I started, but... obviously it doesn't remotely excuse... you never should have known...  _I_ never should have..."

" _I_  shouldn't have been here," she says, realizing that she's still holding her phone in her rather limp hand, including the very texts which led her here. "I wouldn't have been, if it hadn't been for..."

She shows him the messages which Jefferson sent her, relieved that he looks slightly less terrified as he reads them... or at least, until he notices the manual which is still in her other hand.

"I'm so sorry that you were shocked when you saw me watching you. I can't begin to imagine what that must have been like for you. But I can't deny that I'm glad that Jefferson got me to see you like this, that I got to hear you say my name when you..."

"How can you possibly not be upset by that?!"

"Because I love you, too," she says softly, tentatively reaching for his face as she hopes with all her heart that she is right to trust Jefferson's assessment of the landlord's feelings for her.

"You... what?!  _How_?"

When he doesn't withdraw from her approach, she lightly trails her finger along his cheek and chin, marveling at the heat of his skin and the hint of stubble on it – at the fact that she can do this in the first place.

"I love you," she repeats, the memory of what she just witnessed and the fact that he doesn't deny his feelings for her giving her the courage to openly tell him this now.

"But..."

"I  _love_ you," she murmurs, lying down next to him on the bed.

" _Sweetheart_..."

He still doesn't look like he believes that his feelings for her are wholly returned, but at least he shifts a little closer towards her. He allows her to tentatively wrap her arms around him, towel and all, and snuggles against her on his own accord.

"It seems our  _friend_  tricked both of us," he remarks, gesturing at her phone and the manual before glancing back at the related object itself. "I can assure you that I couldn't have made this up on my own."

"Well, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It looked very enjoyable."

"Oh yes," he admits, groaning softly at the memory, the sound of it going straight to her core once again. "It was."

"Better than the 'real thing'?" she can't help but ask with some trepidation, recalling what she read on the paper that Jefferson gave to her.

"There is certainly a lot to be said about not risking to disappoint anyone and not having to worry about anything," he replies, so softly that she can only barely hear him. "But the only reason I enjoyed it so much was because I was imaging making love to you the whole time."

His face reddens again when he says this, as if he's shocked even now that he's telling her such things. Belle, for her part, is only more emboldened.

"Well, I'd be  _very_ happy to help you compare these two options. I'd also really like to watch you do what you just did without hiding myself in the shadows."

"I... I'd really like that as well," he murmurs, although he sounds like he can't quite believe like something like that will ever happen as he glances shyly at her.

"But there's nothing I'd like more than making love to you, just the two of us, without worries or... supplements."

He swallows audibly, opening his mouth before closing it again, as if entirely lost for words. There's no denying that they're indeed a long way from actually doing what they're talking about now. They've still got a long journey ahead of them, but at least they're finally together on the same path now.

"Can I ask... if it wasn't your idea, how did you..."

"It was all Jefferson," he says, although not nearly as bitterly as he probably would have sounded a minute ago. "He paid me a visit this evening. He kept mentioning that I should tell you how I feel."

He tenses, glancing at her again from behind his hair.

"I... I love you, too," he murmurs, reminding her that he hasn't actually said so yet.

"Well, at least we cleared that up," she replies, smiling hopefully at him.

"Yes, I suppose he'll want credit for that," he says, tentatively smiling back at her.

"I'd be happy to give him as much credit as he likes, given that he has gotten us here."

"Indeed. Even at the beginning of this evening, I couldn't have imagined... I tried to make him see that there was no point in telling you how I feel, that you couldn't possibly want  _me._ And even if you did... I can only disappoint you. I'm not good at any of this."

He sighs as in apparent defeat, gesturing both at the now abandoned toy and herself. Combined with the implication that he finds intimacy with an actual person stressful, she makes a mental note to figure out what causes his wariness regarding physical desire, and hopefully help him change this.

"Jefferson gave me this... thing and insisted that I could... practice with it.  _Train_ ," he continues thickly, still not quite looking at her, or at the sex toy that he's referring to again for that matter. "I was convinced that you wouldn't want me even if by some miracle I could actually last longer, and move harder and faster, and I told him so in no uncertain terms. I... I may have threatened him with bodily harm. I thought that was the end of it, but he still didn't shut up about it."

Mr. Gold shivers a little, as if he's in actual discomfort because of the memory. She can only imagine how he lashed out at their mutual friend. It makes her only more bewildered by Jefferson's perseverance – and more grateful, too – now that the his initial reluctance has lead to  _this._

"Rather than giving up like I hoped he would, he tried to persuade me instead that, if anything, I should use this thing because it would be  _so_ good, that I might stop thinking about you altogether. I must admit that this argument convinced me after all. Of course, by the time I had kicked him out and placed his 'gift' and the pillow on my bed the way he instructed me too, I realized that all of this would make me think of you only more."

"As Jefferson probably suspected all along."

"Probably, yes. And instead of actually leaving, he somehow must have come back into the house to confirm what I was doing, open the bedroom door without me noticing,  _and_ message you and persuade you to stay once you arrived at exactly the right moment."

"I must admit that I didn't need much persuasion to stay and watch you," she says, although she can't hep but marvel at Jefferson's scheme. "Although I am very much aware how invasive it must have been for you when you saw me – and Jefferson – standing there right after you..."

"It wasn't pleasant at first," he says, smiling a little more broadly at her at her and holding on to her a slightly more tightly. "But now it very much is."

"I'm very glad to hear that. And if it's any consolation, I would be very happy for you to watch me while I... well, let's just say it would be only fair to turn the tables at one point... that I very much  _want_ that."

"You do?! You'd let me watch you while you do something like I just did?!"

"Oh yes.  _Definitely_."

Beyond thrilled by how excited Mr. Gold is by that prospect, she isn't deterred by the awareness that he will probably first have to get somewhat used to things like merely being in bed together, before venturing to more physical experiments.

Still, that journey is very worthwhile and enjoyable to her in its own right.

Being in his arms like this, let alone sharing his bed, is something Belle could only have dreamed of until an hour or so ago. Very pleased with what they did achieve so far, she's more than happy to simply cuddle with him like this for quite some time. Given the way he questioningly pulls the covers over both of them and snuggles against her, the landlord feels exactly the same way.


End file.
